


What Was Once Whole

by rowofstars



Series: 1200 Follower Promptathon [7]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fix-It, Hopeful Ending, Post-Episode: s06e09 Changelings, Prompt Fic, Semi-Canon Compliant, rowofstars 1200 Follower Promptathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8881855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: For my 1200 Follower Promptathon, Anon prompted: Rumbelle, canon fix-it, Belle tells Rumple their child's name.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, here there be angst. I sort of wish this was how part of 6x10 had gone down.

Regret was a funny emotion.

It was one of those things that could sneak up on people, that they couldn’t name though they’d been feeling it for some time. Days, weeks, or months after something happened, it would creep in and settle in a corner of their mind.

Belle had a lot of regrets. Most of them centering around her husband, their relationship, and now her child as well. Even when she thought she’d made the right choice, even when she _knew_ she had, it was there. She had learned to live with most of it, to lock it away and move on, to do the brave thing. Regret, she had found, was one of those things that frequently had no resolution, no way to relieve it completely.

It was just always _there_.

Only a few hours ago, she’d discovered the full truth of her pregnancy and the potion that sped it towards an all too hasty conclusion. The Evil Queen had once again gotten the better of her, and separated her from her True Love in what she feared might be an irrevocable way. The fairies healed her of the aches and pains of delivery, and she left the convent immediately in search of the one possible way she might relieve the leaden feeling of regret in her belly.

The pawn shop loomed as Belle approached. The sun was setting behind it, casting a strange shadow out into the street, with strips of orange and red light on either side. She could see the sign flipped to closed and the lack of light inside. She hesitated at the door, expecting to find it locked, and then tried the handle. To her surprise, it gave with a solid click, and she made her way into the space, cautiously. 

Light from outside spilled in through the door, and her breath caught. She pressed her fingers to her lips as tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. Glass shards and bits of porcelain were everywhere, crunching sickeningly under her shoes when she moved. Two of the display cases were smashed in the middle, leaving star shaped holes that gaped violently. She assumed he’d used his cane again. It was his weapon of choice when his anger and emotions overwhelmed him. In those moments it was as if he forgot he had magic, though maybe he just preferred the satisfaction of destroying things without other assistance. There was something to be said for the physicality of it.

Belle turned carefully, and bit her lip as she looked around. A few items dangled off the edges of the shelves, others lay piles where they fell. It unnerved her to see the space so chaotic. Her eyes were drawn to the curtains leading to the back room. One of them was hanging awkwardly, pulled loose but not completely torn down, and left as haphazard as the rest of the space. She picked her way across the floor, stepping lightly around the more dangerous bits.

Peeking around the doorway she was surprised to see Rumplestiltskin sitting on the floor in front of his desk. He was turned away from her, sitting in the middle of even more broken items and scattered papers. On the desk was a glass of scotch that looked like it hadn’t been touched. A ring of condensation spread out from the bottom. The bottle was sitting just to the side, within easy reach should he want a refill.

Swallowing, she stepped into the room, her hands clutching at each other in front of her as her shoes shuffled a bit of glass aside.

“R-Rumple?” Her voice cracked and she licked her lips, torn between worry that he wouldn’t want to see her, and fear that he might lash out. She knew she had done the unforgivable, even if it was for the right reasons at the time.

 _Intent is meaningless_ , she reminded herself. Hadn’t he always said that?

Slowly, Rumple shifted and looked over his shoulder, his eyes blinking, unseeing at first. Then he smiled just a little, his lips pressing together as if he was trying not to. “Belle?”

His voice was soft, almost wondering, and his eyes shone in the low light as he took her in. She gave him the tiniest smile in return, just a slight curve of one corner of her mouth.

He used the edge of the desk to pull himself up, as if it took some great effort to do so, and then faced her. His mouth opened and closed, and his fingers fidgeted with his ring. “W-What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you,” she said, her eyes momentarily drawn to the ring. He had never taken it off, despite everything they’d been through, and suddenly her left hand felt too light, too empty.

“Why?” he asked, his face almost pained.

Belle took a deep breath and crossed the space to stand in front of him. Her fingers folded and tightened over each other to keep from reaching for him. She met his eyes and immediately wanted to look away, wanted to escape the way they always drew her in and unraveled her.

“Gideon,” she said quietly. Her voice a near whisper.

Rumple frowned and leaned forward slightly, his hand bracing on the desk. “What?”

“Gideon,” she said again, more firmly. “That’s his name.”

His eyes went wide as the gravity of what she was telling him settled in his chest. He opened his mouth but nothing came out, and she watched, holding his gaze as tears welled up in his eyes.

“My son?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Belle nodded and then looked down, shutting her eyes. She felt like she could no longer hold herself up, like her legs were about to give out and she’d collapse on top of the shattered remains of so many little trinkets and bits of their life together. That’s what it all was really, the fragments of them. Her body swayed and she fell into him, his arms coming up around her.

He held her tight and buried his face in her neck, and she swore there was a breathy, whispered _thank you_ muttered into her hair. 

Then there was the tiniest sniffle, and she could hear the sharp intake of air as he fought the urge to cry. She pulled back just a bit, her hands resting on the lapels of his dusty, wrinkled jacket, and looked up at him.

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “I am too.”

She turned and laid her cheek against his chest. “What have we done to each other?” she mumbled. “To our son?”

Rumple’s hand started moving up and down her back, and even through her thick wool coat she could feel the pressure and warmth and love.

“Gideon,” Rumple said after a long moment.

She smiled and swiped at her tears. It sounded strong and brave, and so full of love. She nodded, afraid if she tried to voice what she was feeling that a sob would come out instead. Then she felt him move and she pulled back. He was looking down at her curiously.

One corner of his mouth curved in amusement. “Like in your favorite book?”

Her mouth opened. He had remembered. _Of course he had_ , she thought, as she looked away for a moment. Then she looked back at him and nodded, her lips pressed together as she tried to keep from smiling.

“Gideon,” he said again, softly, almost reverently. She knew that was it. It was a name burned on his soul forever just like Baelfire’s. And hers, if she was willing to let herself see how much he still loved her.

Belle swallowed. “Gideon,” she repeated, her voice strained and cracking. It felt like tiny pieces of her heart were breaking off every time she said or thought it.

“It’s a good name,” Rumple said as his hand reached up tentatively to brush her hair back. “I like it.”

She nodded again, not trusting herself to get anymore words out without breaking down. She had to get back to the fairies, had to tell them she made a terrible mistake. She needed her - _their_ \- son back.

Belle leaned into him again, and Rumple squeezed her just a little. She shifted and slipped an arm under his jacket, wrapping it around his waist as he wobbled a bit too. They were both weak and tired, worn out from the constant fighting and anxiety, but together they could stand and hold each other up. Together, maybe they could even fix what they’d broken.


End file.
